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EVE

A s I lay in bed, it felt like a boulder sat on my ribs. My wolf whimpered, louder than she had ever been, pacing like a caged animal. Her restless energy felt like she was clawing through thick fog. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow down the erratic beat of my heart.

Logan was long gone. Dawn was about to break, and I hadn’t slept a wink.

This rollercoaster was killing me. We’d made love, and my wolf awoke. But I couldn’t shift and could barely communicate with her. Meanwhile, Logan’s wolf had grasped mine and the bond between them was instantaneous.

Yet, Logan and I were both weakened.

My wolf had the answer in her—she had to. She was made for this, for her fated mate to appear, and the way she rose up when Logan was inside me was all the proof I needed .

If only I could call on her… and get her to stay.

Please , I pleaded. Let’s try again.

I inhaled deeply, letting the air move through my lungs, allowing my shoulders to relax, and the stress of these recent days to dissipate. These last weeks had felt like more than I could handle, and yet, here I was. Still standing. Still fighting. It wasn’t over yet.

I felt her.

She rose in me like the tide, gentle at first, then stronger, brimming with energy. It wasn’t the forceful, desperate pressure I’d felt lately, but something more methodical. She wasn’t clawing this time—she was waiting, watching, her golden eyes meeting mine in a space that wasn’t quite real but more vivid than anything I’d ever known.

There you are , I whispered in my mind, and her answer came not as words but as a burst, threading through me like sunlight breaking through heavy clouds.

Her feelings brushed against mine, gentle and insistent. Reassurance. Curiosity. Pride. And… sadness? It caught me off guard, that faint echo of melancholy woven into her essence.

I’ve missed you , I thought, my throat tightening even though I wasn’t speaking aloud.

Her response was immediate, a deep, soothing rumble that settled an ache I had felt forever. She pressed closer, filling the empty spaces inside me, chasing away the cold.

And yet… there was still something off.

It was like reaching for someone in the dark and feeling their hand but still not being able to see them. A fracture ran through us. My wolf felt it too—I could sense her trying to close the gap, to bridge whatever was keeping us apart. No matter how hard she tried, something held her back.

What is it? I asked.

She didn’t answer this time, only let out a low, mournful growl. Something in me wasn’t ready, wasn’t whole. I was closer than I had ever been, all because of that rush with Logan when our bodies became one, and I knew I was coming closer.

Beneath it all was doubt that maybe this wasn’t temporary. Maybe it was the curse itself, woven into our very connection, keeping us from ever being what we were meant to be.

Just like with Logan.

This cursed bond.

The thought tasted bitter. I curled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as though I could shield myself from the thought.

I stared blankly at the wall, my mind spinning as fragments of my life flickered before me like the disjointed pieces of a broken mirror. Every shard reflected something I’d tried to ignore, something I’d tried to bury.

The Crux pack.

My mother’s haunted eyes as she left me with the Heraclids. She’d known what I was. She’d seen it in me before I’d even understood myself. Her decision had been one of sacrifice—abandoning her own daughter to protect me from something greater. But from what?

The Heraclids.

Years of manipulation, whispers of power wrapped in chains of control. The way Damian twisted me into something I barely recognized, and how even in his death, the echoes of his cruelty lingered. I’d been nothing but a doll to them. A weapon.

Logan.

I needed him. He needed me. But what if being together was going to end us? The marks on my arm were unrecognizable, neither Heraclid nor Orion, a reminder of what we’d begun but left unfinished. Of what I was doing to him. That perhaps his fight wasn’t just against the Heraclids or the alphas. It was against me.

I buried my face in my knees, the enormity of it crushing. Even the bond, the one thing that should have been pure, was poisoned. What kind of fated mate brought destruction instead of strength?

And yet, I wanted it. Desperately .

The thought made my stomach churn with shame. I wanted the bond with Logan, wanted his fire and steadiness, his love, even though I didn’t know if I deserved it. I wanted to believe that something in my life could be untouched by the curse.

That there could be something—someone—who wasn’t destroyed by me.

I wasn’t naive enough to think it was possible.

Could I save Logan from me ? How could I stop this bond from pulling him under when it had already begun to take hold? Did I even have the strength to sever it? Would he let me if I tried?

The questions were endless, a storm swirling in my mind with no end in sight. And I felt utterly powerless. Trapped. Alone.

The wolf inside me stilled, her energy trying to comfort me. Even her presence felt like a cruel reminder. She had been freed, yes. But what did it matter if the chains around me remained?

A knock on the door came softly, jolting me out of deep thought. Before I could answer, Elder Raina stepped inside, scanning me with piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through my soul.

“Good morning,” she said. Her brow furrowed as she took in my disheveled state. She carried a tray with tea and a small plate of bread. “You look like you’ve been wrestling with a ghost.”

I tried to smile. It probably looked more like a grimace. “Something like that.”

She set the tray on the table and moved closer, her presence oddly comforting. “Get yourself out of bed and come sit with me,” she said. I obeyed without a word, too drained to argue.

Raina poured tea into a delicate ceramic cup, the earthy aroma of herbs wafting through the air. She handed it to me, her fingers brushing mine briefly. “Drink. It will help.”

I took a small sip, the spices alive on my tongue and warmth spreading through my chest. I sat there, staring into the dark liquid, trying to gather my thoughts enough so that I could be social.

“I feel many things written on your heart,” Raina said, breaking the silence.

“Do you?” In spite of myself, a huff of a sarcastic laugh snuck out of me. “Sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind, understanding, and frankly treated me better than most, but…” How could I begin to explain that anything she did felt like it was based on a fantasy of Logan and me as mates—one that was bound to implode ?

“You know better than to trust kindness?” she finished for me.

I nodded. “It doesn’t seem wise on your part to invest so much in me.”

That made her smile. “Ironic, don’t you think? You telling me what you think is wise?” She leaned forward. “Every one of these wrinkles is a gift from decades of wisdom, more than you might allow yourself to imagine. And for my part, dear Eve, I find your education lacking.”

I bristled, despite knowing she was perhaps… likely… no, definitely, right.

She watched me, curious, her hands folding neatly in her lap. “Eve, the others are scared because they don’t understand. They’ve heard the stories, seen the destruction. I’ve lived long enough to know the Shadow Moon Goddess does not give power lightly. Oracle wolves have always had a purpose, even if it has been twisted by time and fear.”

“Purpose?” I echoed. “All I’ve ever done is bring pain. How could that be a purpose?”

Raina whispered, “Do you know what oracles were before the Great Separation?”

I shook my head, ashamed of my ignorance.

“They were the voice of the Shadow Moon Goddess herself,” she said. “Guides. Protectors. They were meant to be the balance between strength and wisdom. But when the packs fractured, when trust crumbled, the oracles became scapegoats. Their power was feared, misunderstood. And so, they were hunted and harnessed.”

Her words rang true in every part of my body. My mother, her endless warnings, the way she’d hidden me away… I thought of the oracle girl I’d met behind the dumpster, her words haunting me still.

“And we come from the Crux pack, right?” I asked.

Raina’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Crux pack,” she said softly. “That was a sweet idea. A pack that disappeared, absorbed into other southern packs, and was revived through modern lore. Crux isn’t the only pack to have disappeared over time, but stories about them can be dangerous.” She shook her head. “To say oracle wolves came from a single pack is like saying all wolves who can scent from afar come from the same pack. I believe in your gifts—those are very real. The rest is a fairy tale. Crux, a pack of oracles, led by an alpha so powerful she could see the threads of fate itself… It was the shifter version of unicorns and princesses. I don’t mean to disappoint you.” She laid a hand on my forearm. “I don’t want you to chase a ghost pack either.”

Perhaps her words should have been comforting, dismissing a burden I’d felt since I met Dahlia in that back alleyway. But I wasn’t comforted in the least. Deep down, I knew Crux pack wasn’t a fairy tale. It was real. And I was part of its legacy.

A sharp pain hit me, like I was being stabbed within, but without any real wound—a pain of warning.

“Raina,” I huffed, clutching my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. “What is this?”

Raina moved closer, scanning me with the precision of someone who’d seen generations of wolves through their darkest moments. Her hand rested lightly on my arm. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, the sound louder than was natural, and when she exhaled, the air blew my hair like a gust of wind .

“It’s the bond,” she said, her voice tinged with a gravity that made my wolf still. “The connection between fated mates isn’t just emotional, Eve. It’s visceral. When one half is in danger, the other feels it.”

That didn’t make sense. “He’s not here. He’s?—”

“Far from you, yes,” she interrupted gently, her beaded silver hair catching the dim light as she leaned closer. “And that distance stretches the bond to its limits. You’re not just feeling your own pain—you’re feeling his—and you’re experiencing the pain of a bond at risk.”

My mind was racing. Logan’s face flashed in my mind. Was this agony his? Was he hurting, and I was simply… borrowing it?

“If it’s part of our bond, why does it feel like it’s killing me?” I asked as I felt the stabbing pain again.

Raina looked over my body, my arm. She took my hand and brought it toward her, exposing my pack mark, which had blended into a mass of abstract art. “Your bond isn’t complete, and yet it is powerful enough to change your pack affiliation even before he’s fully claimed you. That’s the fated bond of the time prior to the Great Separation. Bonds like yours aren’t meant to endure separation. It’s like pulling the threads of a tapestry too far apart—they fray, unravel, until there’s nothing left holding them together. The pain you feel is the bond’s way of trying to stay intact while your connection is tenuous.”

The comparison hit me hard. I sure felt like I was unraveling. Every beat of my heart felt fragile. “So, this is normal?”

“Normal?” Raina gave a wry smile, shaking her head. “There’s nothing normal about fated mates. It’s rare enough to find one, and rarer still for the bond to manifest so strongly. I’ve seen this before, Eve, and I know what it means.”

“What does it mean?” I whispered, though part of me didn’t want to hear the answer.

“It means Logan is in danger. And your bond is trying to warn you.”

My wolf growled low and deep, her energy surging as if to confirm what Raina had said. My body trembled, caught between fear and fury.

“What do I do?” The question was so simple, but the answer evaded me completely.

“Something in you already knows,” Raina said simply, squeezing my arm. “Follow it. The bond can make you stronger if you let it. But only if you find a way to give yourself to it fully. Bonds like yours aren’t just connections—they’re compasses. If you trust it, it will lead you to him.”

A wave of scent reached me and my nostrils flared.

My wolf stirred, her hackles rising.

Raina was already moving. The elder’s serene composure hardened in an instant, her body tense as she rose from her chair. Her silver hair gleamed in the soft light. She opened the door and without a word, she shifted. The transformation was fluid, her wolf emerging with grace and precision, her coat a pale gray that seemed to shimmer like mist. She moved to the bungalow’s door, her body low, growling softly as her nose tipped upward to scent the air.

Someone was coming.

Someone who didn’t belong here.